TRANSCRIPT:
For this week’s episode, I had the privilege of interviewing Margaret Dolinsky. Dolinsky is an accomplished artist and head of the digital art department at Indiana University. In our interview, we talk about digital art, feminism, and utopias.

M: Hi, I’m Margaret Dolinsky and I’m head of digital art here at Indiana University, and my claim to fame is virtual reality. I’ve been doing virtual reality for some time now and I really love situating experience in 3 dimensional worlds. I’m really interested in art and how art can reconfigure the rhetoric around virtual reality.

K: My first question is, have you experienced misogyny as a woman in the field of digital art? If so, how?

M: The really wonderful thing about women in digital art is that we’re very prolific. When computers and art became a popular avenue to pursue, it was wide open for both men and women. So women were able to enter the field very readily. It turns out that a lot of guys built the computers, and the way that they could get girls around was if there were girl artists around. So pretty soon, women who were hanging around with techno guys started to become technologically advantaged. And so you see a lot of computer scientists supporting women artists and you see a lot of women in the field of digital art. This turned out to be quite an advantage for the field as a whole because now the conversation around art and computers expanded to both genders and creativity was infused within the technology. I think that in terms of misogyny, there’s an incredible phenomenon called unconscious bias and we tend to have unconscious predilections towards certain behaviors and thoughts. And I think that’s pervasive throughout society. And actually occurs in academia, in the art world, and in computer graphics. Now, when we talk about video games, and how those same computer scientists with the technology actually romanticize the female figure through computer graphics, we can see it either as an adulation of the female figure or as a form of misogyny in that they began to search for the “perfect woman” that they could build themselves rather than suffer through actually trying to converse with us.

K: Video games, video game women can be so frustrating. Because I know I’ve talked with my friends a lot about how it’s so impractical to fight in a bikini.

M: Mhm. But it’s funny because a lot of guys want to be the avatar of the woman in the bikini.

M: So… what’s that all about?

K: I don’t know, that’s a good question. Um, but my next question is, what effect has digital art had on feminism?

M: So there’s a definite reciprocal relationship between digital art and feminism. I believe that digital art really empowered women intellectually and in their work by allowing the playing field of computers to be leveled for both men and women, because we were discovering it together. And that was a very exciting time. Some of the most interesting pioneers in digital art like Laurie Spiegel in electronic music and Steina Vasulka in video art and interactions, are really the goddesses of digital art. You see a lot of men who have really laid the claim to lots of digital art, but it really has really been infused with a lot of women. I think it has the same types of dynamics, that, um, the traditional art world has.

K: How has the art world changed for women since you became an artist?

M: It feels like there’s a lot more women artists, and it feels like there’s much more information available about women artists, but I think when you look at the statistics of who is actually being shown in galleries and how many museum shows are being dedicated to women, I think the numbers still continue to be really low. And it is problematic, but with technology, women are able to connect to one another more readily, and be able to get their work out there much more easily, so technology has really empowered women artists and made us much more visible. And that’s been hugely helpful to women who are pursuing the field.

K: Do you think those numbers will start evening out?

M: They’re not even close. The numbers for women being able to have solo shows in New York City are still very grim, and I’m hoping that they will even out, but I think we have a long way to go.

K: I agree. You are a professor in addition to an artist. How do you create a feminist classroom?

M: Perhaps it’s a feminist classroom just because I’m a woman teaching the class, and so that situates me in a power position above the students and in direction of the instruction. And I definitely feel like I am not emulating a man but really tapping into my powers as a woman when I teach my classes.

K: I’ve been reading “The Feminist Utopia Project,” which is a book edited by Alexandra Brodsky and Rachel Kauder Nalebuff. The book is a collection of writings about people’s different ideas of what a feminist utopia would look like. What would a feminist art utopia look like to you, and what would be different and what would be the same?

M: I think one of the major things that would be different in a feminist art utopia is that it wouldn’t matter whether the piece was created by a man or a woman. That the artwork by women would be seen as equally valuable. And I think that would be huge. I mean, I think it’s part of that unconscious bias I was talking about earlier.

K. And there have been many instances of historical art criticism where before someone knows it’s a piece by a woman they think it’s great, and then after they find out it’s made by a woman they think it’s cute.

M: Yeah, I think that’s a long time coming. And I have a feeling that because we are children of women and we kind of seek women through our mothering, that I think those kind of… intrinsic dynamics that we have that we know the mother as being forgiving and the father as not being as forgiving in the traditional sense. And for some reason that is embedded in a societal sense, and because most of our major corporate figures and political figures are men, we still…are exposed to male authority constantly. And so the male name is always going to be privileged.

K: What do you think the future of women in digital art looks like now?

M: Obviously I think it’s quite exciting. I mean, it’s amazing. The people that are moving and shaking the conversations around digital art are definitely women. We are in many, many service roles across organizations, conferences, and industry and we help shape the conversation around what we’re doing in ways that bring together lots of people from different areas. And I think it’s pretty exciting the way we can communicate more readily across distances and across fields.

K: I would agree. That’s part of the reason why I really like the field of digital art. I think its really… like what you said before, about how technology really empowered women, I think that’s why, part of the reason why, I’m so attracted to it. I feel like it’s such a level playing field compared to some other fields.

M: And the thing is that women are open to their emotions, and they’re open to social situations, and they’re very interested in how people are talking and acting and being, and that’s experience. That’s an insight into experience that I think can be translated into digital art and interactive art. And because we understand how we want to work with things, and how we want to talk across the medium to other people, a woman’s voice is very valuable in infusing creativity in technology.

K: I agree! Thank you.

M: You’re welcome.

Works Cited

Brodsky, Alexandra, and Rachel Kauder Nalebuff. The Feminist Utopia Project: Fifty-seven Visions of a Wildly Better Future. New York: Feminist Press at the City University of New York, 2015. Print.

TRANSCRIPT:
Before this year, I had never heard of Gabriele Münter. I stumbled upon her and her work when sifting through the web for female artists, and I was awestruck. Münter was part of one of my favorite art movements: the German Expressionist movement. German Expressionists worked in various styles and mediums in the years leading up to World War II (“German Expressionism Collection”). Münter was “a founding member of Der Blaue Reiter (The Blue Rider), an influential group of German Expressionists” (“Gabriele Münter”). Yet, the first time I saw her name outside of the Internet, I was stunned at how she was represented.
In his book German Art in the Twentieth Century, art historian Franz Roh referred to Münter as the “most prominent” woman artist of The Blue Rider, “through her friendship with Kandinsky.” “We sense nothing revolutionary or radical in her long life,” Roh claims, and of her later work in the 1930s he says that “she was able to pursue her work, never spectacularly, yet never quite forgotten” (Roh 82). I remember sitting in the stacks of Indiana University’s Fine Arts Library, my face wrinkling up in disgust at the overt misogyny in these statements. “Nothing revolutionary or radical?” Give me a break. She was a woman artist before it was cool. If anything, being involved with men did just as much harm as good. According to Reinhold Heller, “since [Münter’s] respectability and suitability for reception in people’s homes was severely compromised by her `immoral` relationship with Kandinsky, she had virtually no social contacts outside Munich’s very small group of progressive artists and writers” (83). Having a small circle of friends can be nice, but not when it is mandated upon you by society. I immediately flipped to the front of the book. I had a hunch, and I was correct – Roh’s book was originally published in the 1960s. Fortunately for us, this is no longer the 1960s, so I am going to talk about the revolutionary and radical Gabriele Münter not as a “never [spectacular]” artist, not as a friend of Kandinsky’s, but as a true artist in her own right.
Gabriele Münter was born in 1877 in Berlin and was “raised in a family and country that discouraged women from a career in the arts.” In spite of this, she attended art school in Munich, where she studied woodcut techniques and sculpture (“Gabriele Münter”). She is most well known for her paintings. She uses bright colors, simple forms, and thick lines to create eye-catching, bold images. She could “drastically simplify forms into hieroglyphs of representation without diminishing their ability to act referentially” (Heller 68). Her portraits are my favorite. They are highly expressive, and the features are almost cartoonish in their distortion. Take for example Münter’s 1917 work, Woman Musing. The figure’s eyes are much larger than natural eyes, and the flatness of the colors Münter uses creates interestingly defined forms. She encloses some of her forms in heavy black lines, which emphasizes the simple shapes she uses. Similar qualities are present in her 1924 Tree Shadows on a Hillside. Beautiful blues and whites coalesce among shadows on the snow outlined in black. The landscape seems simultaneously cold and inviting, and the solidity of the forms is reminiscent of ice. In the snow, there are two sets of footprints, yet there are not human figures present. This was also typical of Münter, who employed the “constant motif” of “a human presence in the landscape, even when figures are absent” (Heller 146). Her skill, though it has been severely underrated by art historians, is truly amazing. Through “simplicity and coloristic harmony of image,” Münter created truly distinguished works that should be recognized as such (Heller 79).
Now I will talk a little bit about Kandinsky. Wassily Kandinsky, once Münter’s lover, dabbled in the art world himself. He was quite the heartbreaker. The Russian national was married to another woman while he was seeing the talented artist Münter for twelve years. In 1914, when he was sent back to Russia during World War I, he divorced his wife and wed a different woman, though he had promised to marry Münter (“Gabriele Münter”). Thankfully for Kandinsky, Münter kept “almost 1000 of his works.” Her “preservation of many of his best works” helped his reputation and made his work more valuable (P.W.). Now, obviously, this description of Kandinsky is a little bit tongue-in-cheek. He was more than a heartbreaker, and he more than “dabbled” in art. Yet, if he were a woman, this description of Kandinsky would likely seem normal. If you heard me talking about Kandinsky this way and thought I was not giving him credit where it was due, imagine how fans of Gabriele Münter feel.
To conclude, Gabriele Münter was a “revolutionary,” “radical” woman artist who worked hard to develop her career and be involved in multiple famous groups of artists. Her strong and expressive style stands out in the German Expressionist movement, and her work deserves more respect than it has received.

Works Cited

"Gabriele Münter." National Museum of Women in the Arts. National Museum of Women in the Arts, n.d. Web. 11 Aug. 2016. <http://nmwa.org/explore/artist-profiles/gabriele-m%C3%BCnter>.

Image of the National Museum of Women in the Arts. (www.commons.wikimedia.org)

TRANSCRIPT:
I have mentioned a lot of negatives in these first few podcast episodes. Not enough women in art education, not enough unbiased art criticism about women’s art, not enough of anything, and on and on. We live in a time where these negatives are prevalent and hard to escape. It can be easy to get discouraged. Thankfully, there is a light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to women and art. It starts with safe, supportive spaces that are inclusive of the art of women and minorities.
One such space is the National Museum of Women in the Arts. I first went there this January with my boyfriend and his mom. After we made our way through the cold Washington D.C. weather and into the marble interior of the museum, I knew I would not want to leave for a long time. The interior was beautiful – reminiscent of all of the extremely well funded, mainstream museums that house mostly art by men. For me, there was a sudden feeling of belonging as I began to look around at all of the art created by women. Not personal belonging, but a feeling of belonging for all women. A “we made it” kind of feeling. While some thought that founding a museum just for women’s art would make a “ghetto” of their work, and others thought there was “no such thing as women’s art,” the NMWA’s founder Wilhelmina Cole Holladay fought past this criticism (Holladay and Kopper 52). Holladay and her husband had been collecting art since the 60s, and when prompted to choose a focus for their collection, the Holladays decided to “aim to show women’s contribution to the history of art” (“Our History,” Holladay and Kopper 23). The National Museum of Women in the Arts is more than a safe place for women artists. It is a safe place to educate others about female artists and the difficulties they faced. When we left the museum that day, my boyfriend’s mom turned to me and said, “I’m glad you had the idea to go there. It was amazing. Can you imagine being a female artist during those times? It would have been nearly impossible.”
Another safe space for women artists is the A.I.R. Gallery in Brooklyn, New York. Founded in 1972, A.I.R. Gallery was the “ first not-for-profit, artist-directed and maintained gallery for women artists in the United States” (“A Short History”). A.I.R. is short for Artists in Residence. Women artists at A.I.R. create and curate their own shows and are encouraged to experiment. A.I.R. also promotes feminist values and emphasizes community involvement through internships, performances, and discussions (“A Short History”). Also located in New York is the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art, housed in the Brooklyn Museum. It is the permanent location of Judy Chicago’s piece, The Dinner Party, which I mentioned in the last episode. According to their website, their “mission is to raise awareness of feminism’s cultural contributions, to educate new generations about the meaning of feminist art, and to maintain a dynamic and welcoming learning environment” (“About”). Hopefully, in the future, more art institutions will have missions like these.
For some institutions, this future is already coming. For example, the Venice Biennale, a world-renowned and highly esteemed art show, hired French curator Christine Macel this year to direct the 57th Biennale. She is the fourth woman to curate the exhibition in 122 years (“Christine Macel”). The Museum of Modern Art in New York has also taken big strides when it comes to representing more work by women. MoMA published a book in 2014 called Modern Women: Women Artists at the Museum of Modern Art, which “explores the work of over three hundred women artists represented in the Museum's collection” (“The Book”). There are also women establishing themselves in public spaces, such as Maya Lin. When Lin was a just 20 year-old graduate student at Yale, her design was chosen for the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial in Washington, D.C. (“Maya Lin’s”). Obviously, women have been reclaiming and establishing safe spaces for their art for decades and will continue to do so.
An important point I want to cover in this episode is how art spaces that are not so woman-friendly can change their ways, and how you, if you own or work for one of these spaces, can influence a move toward equal gender representation. The first step is research. Learn as much as you can about the women artists that have been underrepresented throughout history. I encourage you to use the resources from these podcast episodes to start. The second thing you need to do is simple – you need to look. Look at all of the labels next to the artwork hanging on gallery walls. How many of the artists are women? In many cases, this answer will be “not many.” The third step is a little more difficult. You need to talk. Talk to whomever you can at the gallery or museum, and open a discussion with them about the gender representation in their institution. Mention your research and the benefits of educating the public about art through the lens of gender equality. Perhaps the person you are talking to will be interested in what you are saying, and hopefully, you will influence a place to become a safe space for women artists.
Whether it is a huge, federally funded museum or a small, locally funded gallery, I hope this episode has inspired you to create a dialogue with the art institutions that you know and love. I have given you a few examples of woman-friendly art spaces. Use them as inspiration, and think of them when you need to stay positive about women in the art world. The art world is changing, and you can push it to change for the better and become more inclusive.